Flexible
by QueenoftheSerpents
Summary: A wife and mother is put to the test to prove she can be flexible. Rated R for language and violence.


Flexible  
by AlexandraDarke

This is the first story in my year-long quest to complete a fanfiction in all of the books, shows, and films that I am a fan of. Check my profile for more information on this. Critique honestly, but do not flame. I despise flamers.

Rated R for language and violence.

* * *

Marjorie groaned loudly as she woke up. Her head felt like it had been pounded with a giant sledgehammer. She tried to put her hand on her forehead. She then gasped in pain and surprise. She tugged at one hand, then the other. Both were held by something sharp that cut into her skin as she struggled. She then attempted to move her head. It, too, was stuck in place. Lights suddenly blazed overhead. Marjorie groaned and shut her eyes, blinded by the bright lights. After a minute, she slowly opened them again. Her vision was blurry for a few moments, then cleared up.

She was stretched out on what looked like a large metal crucifix. There were 3 small metal boxes attached to the back that encased both of her hands and her right foot. Her head was in a five-sided metal box, with her face towards the open side. The top of her head, however, was attached to a metal cap that had a tube leading up into the box above her.

Then, a loud buzzing sound came from in front of her. She looked up toward the sound. An old TV was set up near her, static covering the screen. It was then replaced by a sinister white puppet head that slowly turned towards her.

"Hello Marjorie. I want to play a game."

Marjorie's heart fluttered in fear. Who was this guy? How did he know her name?

"You have been blessed with many of life's gifts – a loving husband, two precious daughters. But you do not appreciate the blessings you have been given. You value your time at work more than you do your time with your family. Your bosses do not require you to work the hours that you do, but you would rather sit in front of a computer than go to a soccer game, or a ballet recital. You would rather stay late at the office than go out to dinner. You would rather give into the perceived demands of your bosses so that you can earn more money than be flexible in your daily hours for your family. Today, we shall see if you are able to flex at all."

Marjorie began to struggle against her metal restraints. She didn't know what he wanted from her, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. But there was no luck.

"The device you are attached to has rendered your head, both of your arms, and one leg immobile. You cannot pull them out now, as the blades at the entrances of the restraints make that impossible. Your left leg, however, is free. This is your key to freedom. All you have to do is stretch your leg up and press the buttons where your hands, leg, and head are located. The blades will retract, and your limbs will be freed."

Marjorie studied the box. She could make out a red bulge on the box containing her left hand. Looking around, she saw another one near her other hand, and another near her foot.

"However, you'd better hurry...Fifteen seconds after this video stops playing, the screws inside the boxes that hold you captive will start turning. They will slowly come down one by one, puncturing your foot, your hands, and within three minutes, your head. Oh, and I wouldn't press the one on your foot until last if I were you."

Marjorie started struggling. "Help! Someone, help me!" she screamed.

"Live or die, Marjorie. Make your choice."

The screen returned to static.

"No, no, NO!" Marjorie screamed. She fought as hard as she could against the boxes that held her. She gasped in pain as blades sliced her wrists. She tried kicking with her right leg. More blades cut into her ankle. "Damn it, let me go!" she screamed.

The next instant, she heard several whirring sounds from all around her, including a particularly loud one that came from right above her head. "Okay, okay!" she screamed.

Taking a deep breath, Marjorie began lifting her leg. Being in her thirties, it was nearly impossible for her to get it very high off the ground. She tried to lift it higher than her waist, but the pain was too much and she dropped in to the ground. Cursing, she tried again. This time, she was able to lift it up to waist height, but she couldn't hold it, and her leg dropped again. She started sobbing. "Please... I can't do this," she cried.

To no avail. Instead, the whirring sound got louder. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" she screamed.

She looked down at her foot. If she freed her foot, she would be able to stretch higher. But the puppet had said to do the foot last...

Closing her eyes, Marjorie made her choice. She lifted her foot and slammed it against the button on her foot. Her foot slid out with a sickening _plop._ She sighed, then started to hoist herself up. Suddenly, Marjorie felt sharp pains from her hands. She screamed in agony, trying in desperation to kick the buttons. "Please!" she cried. "I want to see my family again! Please let me go!"

The last thing Marjorie felt before slipping into blackness was something boring into the top of her skull.


End file.
